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Ser Andar Royce's body lay not far away, blood still gushing from the wound on his neck, dyeing the cobblestones beneath his feet an ominous crimson.
His unseeing eyes stared straight up at the sky.
As if silently questioning the gods of the Faith of the Seven.
Why should an honorable end be such a vile death?
Edmure trembled all over, his teeth chattering uncontrollably, making a faint "clattering" sound.
He wanted to beg for mercy, to say he was willing to follow any arrangement, if only he could live.
But just then, the handwriting on his father's letter seemed to sear his mind.
[Edmure, remember our words.]
[Family, Duty, Honor.]
[Do not let the banner of House Tully be stained with the blood of the innocent.]
Edmure's gaze slowly shifted from Andar Royce's young, lifeless face to his sister's face, twisted with madness.
Family?
For the sake of a dead man, she would not hesitate to put her own brother to death, forcing the entire family to be buried with her madness.
Duty?
As the Lady of the Vale, she personally murdered a vassal loyal to her, just to establish her authority.
Honor?
She used the vilest ambush and betrayal to tarnish the honor of Houses Tully and Arryn, trampling honor beneath her filthy feet.
Edmure suddenly stopped trembling.
The chill that came from his very bones was replaced by a more scalding emotion.
It was anger.
The anger of being deceived.
The anger of seeing kin harmed.
It was the anger of House Tully's dignity being trampled upon!
He, Edmure Tully.
Had been a useless failure since childhood.
He couldn't shoot arrows straight, was no good at warfare, and his mind wasn't sharp enough.
He had always lived under his father's strictness and in the shadow of others' glory.
But now, he was the Duke of Riverrun.
He was the legitimate heir, the one his father placed his final hopes upon in his dying words.
He could not let his father's last will be tarnished.
He could not let the Trout Banner of House Tully be shamed in his hands!
"Kill me."
Edmure's voice was not loud, and even carried a trace of fear, but every word was crystal clear.
Clearly, he had made up his mind at this moment.
Edmure met Lysa's astonished eyes.
"What are you?"
"A shameless bitch!"
"Even if I die, Riverrun will not be yours to command!"
"Do you think everyone in House Tully is a fool like you?"
Edmure straightened his back.
At this moment, Lysa seemed to see the shadow of the "Blackfish," Brynden Tully, upon him.
"After my death, Brynden Tully will inherit Riverrun."
"He is still a Tully, and also the bravest warrior in the Riverlands."
"He will avenge me, he will avenge Ser Andar Royce, he will avenge all the innocents you have harmed!"
"He will lead the vassals of House Tully and drive you and your deluded knights of the Vale completely off our lands!"
"Lysa, you will face the wrath of the entire Riverlands! The full wrath of your uncle!"
"You just wait to die!"
Edmure almost roared out this last sentence.
He felt he had never been so full of strength.
The fear of death had become less terrifying before the determination to protect his family's honor.
He was prepared.
To use his own death to ignite that fire of vengeance.
Since Lysa came to Riverrun, Hoster had died, and if he followed in Hoster's footsteps, Lysa would surely be the prime suspect.
The Tully words were everyone's first stereotypical impression.
Family always comes first, even a seven-year-old child knows that.
No matter how vicious a person is, how could they possibly kill their own father?
What kind of beast would do such an utterly depraved thing!
Even the maester had already sensed something was wrong.
It was just that, because Lysa was Hoster's youngest daughter, the maester dared not consider that possibility.
Not only did the maester not dare think it, no one had even considered it at all.
Even the dead Hoster himself never imagined that his own flesh and blood daughter would deliberately smother him to death!
As a father, who would deliberately guard against their own daughter?
If he had known Lysa would be so utterly depraved, he wouldn't have given her the chance to be alone with him.
He thought Lysa had something important to discuss, dismissed the servants, and a momentary lapse in vigilance resulted in his own death.
One could only say, Hoster blindly believed his upbringing of his children would have an effect.
Edmure thought.
As long as he died, deepening everyone's suspicion of Lysa once more, then everyone would see her true face clearly.
Sacrifice himself, preserve the family.
This deal was far too profitable.
However, contrary to Edmure's expectations, Lysa did not fly into a rage as he imagined.
She just stared at him blankly, as if looking at some novel creature.
A few seconds later.
"Heh..."
A light laugh escaped Lysa's lips.
Immediately after, as if she had heard the funniest joke in the world, she began to laugh out loud.
The laughter was sharp, piercing, filled with undisguised mockery and pity.
"Hahahaha... my foolish little brother..."
"I never thought you had such backbone."
"It seems my words just now didn't scare you."
"I underestimated you, you've grown, you've changed a lot since you were little."
Lysa laughed so hard she bent over, tears streaming from her eyes.
"Uncle? Brynden Tully?"
"Do you think I'm really afraid of that stubborn old man?"
"Do you think that if you die, he can smoothly inherit Riverrun, and then come to take revenge on me with those 'loyal' vassals you speak of?"
Lysa straightened up, looking at Edmure with an expression as if he were an idiot.
"Edmure, when will you grow up a little?"
"Do you still think this is listening to a bard sing heroic epics?"
"The righteous knight finally defeats the evil sorcerer?"
"Too naive."
The smile on Lysa's face slowly faded.
Replaced by an eerie expression that sent chills down Edmure's spine.
"Do you think I came all the way to Riverrun without any preparation at all?"
"Edmure, my dear brother."
"If you had been afraid of death just now and agreed to my demands, you might have spared yourself the suffering to come."
"After all, you are my own brother, if you just obey, it saves me some trouble."
"But you had to be so stubborn."
"In that case, don't blame your sister for being ruthless."
"This is all your own doing."
Lysa raised her hand and gently clapped twice.
Clap. Clap.
The crisp sound of applause seemed particularly abrupt on the silent riverbank.
A rustling sound came from the woods behind.
Edmure instinctively looked over, his heart sinking like a stone.
Over a dozen knights, surrounding an old man, slowly emerged from the woods.
The old man was gaunt, his back hunched, wearing an ornate robe embroidered with a twin towers sigil.
On his face, which resembled dried orange peel, a pair of small eyes glittered with shrewdness and greed.
Even from a distance, Edmure seemed able to smell the foul odor of decay and conspiracy emanating from him.
Walder Frey.
The Marquess of the Twins.
The wealthiest, with the largest family, and the most despised lord in the Riverlands.
Why was he despised by everyone?
Because, during Robert's Rebellion, Walder Frey's army acted the same as Tywin Lannister's.
He only arrived belatedly at the battlefield after the rebel forces had won the decisive Battle of the Trident.
His liege lord, Duke Hoster Tully, thus called him "the Late Lord Frey."
This clearly mocking and humiliating nickname spread from then on, and Walder still bore a grudge over it.
Even now that Hoster was dead, he had not forgotten Hoster's humiliation of him.
If Lyn were present, he would know.
Even at the beginning of the War of the Five Kings.
Edmure Tully had already summoned his vassals to choose to fully support Robb Stark's march south to attack King's Landing, but only Lord Walder made no move; he was, as before, slow to respond to the call.
Because the strategic position of the Twins was crucial, and the northern army had to pass through there for supplies, Robb had to negotiate with Walder, promising a marriage alliance in exchange for support.
Old Walder was shrewd at calculation, vindictive, a true petty man!
Unfortunately, Robb was blinded by love and broke his vow.
This made the already narrow-minded Walder Frey directly side with the enemy.
Ultimately leading to the Red Wedding, the point where House Stark completely began its decline.
Walder Frey?
What was he doing here?!
Edmure's mind went completely blank.
A thought more terrifying than Lysa abruptly surfaced in his mind.
Old Frey paid no heed to the corpses on the riverbank or the tense, sword-drawn atmosphere.
He just slowly walked to Lysa's side.
Those murky old eyes swept brazenly over Lysa's still charming figure, and the corners of his mouth twisted into a nauseating smile.
"Hehe, my good lady, it seems you've taken care of everything?"
His voice was old and grating.
"Of course."
Lysa seemed utterly unbothered by his rudeness, even casting him a coquettish glance.
"Now, it's your turn to fulfill your promise, Lord Frey."
"Promise?"
Old Frey let out a shrill laugh.
"House Frey never owes anything, and we never let go of anything that belongs to us."
His gaze finally fell upon the dumbstruck Edmure.
That look wasn't as if he were looking at a duke, but more like examining livestock ready for slaughter.
"This waste inheriting Riverrun?"
"He's far worse than his father."
Old Frey smacked his lips, not hiding his contempt.
"But it doesn't matter, as long as he's obedient, Riverrun will still be his, at least on the surface."
Edmure was completely bewildered.
Lysa... she had actually colluded with Walder Frey!
What had she promised this old thing?
Could it be...
"You... you sold Riverrun to him?!"
Edmure screamed in disbelief.
"Sold?"
Lysa sneered.
"Don't put it so crudely, brother."
"This is what we call cooperation."
"Lord Frey will support me with all his strength."
"And I,"
Lysa's eyes glittered with greed.
"Will have my son, the legitimate heir of the Vale, Robert Arryn, marry one of Lord Frey's granddaughters."
Edmure felt as if a bolt of lightning had struck the crown of his head.
He understood.
He understood everything.
This was no simple revenge.
This was an out-and-out conspiracy!
A massive conspiracy aimed at overthrowing the entire Riverlands, including the rule of House Tully!
Through the marriage alliance, Lysa gained the support of House Frey.
House Frey was the most powerful vassal in the Riverlands.
Their defection was enough to plunge the entire Riverlands into division and civil war.
And House Frey, through this marriage alliance, extended their reach into the isolated Vale!
Their descendants would have "the blood of House Arryn," and also a claim to the Eyrie!
This way, from now on, on the surface it would still be the Riverlands and the Vale.
But in secret, the two powers would be one entity!
Madmen!
Both of them were utter madmen!
If Edmure knew that Robert Arryn's blood held no trace of Jon's lineage, he would be even more shocked!
Now, the uncle Brynden he relied on, the Tully vassals he trusted... all seemed so fragile before the behemoth that was House Frey.
All because Hoster's serious illness caused power to constantly slip away.
The current House Tully was just a gaudy, empty shell.
Once war broke out, the Riverlands would run red with blood.
And the ultimate victors would only be the two devils before him!
"Now, my foolish brother,"
Lysa walked up to him, looking down at him with a victor's smile on her face.
"Do you still think your death can achieve anything?"
"Do you still think I would let you die so easily?"
"If you die, my dear uncle would rightfully inherit Riverrun."
"But, as long as you live, he has no right of inheritance, and is never the legitimate heir!"
"Do you really think I'm so stupid as to let you die that easily?"
Lysa reached out and, like when they were children, gently stroked Edmure's cheek.
"You will live, I will let you live well."
"I want you to witness my final victory."
"Lord Walder has already prepared an ambush."
"If you don't cooperate, he will give the order, and while House Tully is completely unprepared, even sleeping naked, they will be cut to pieces by fully armored, armed Frey soldiers."
"Please don't question his military strength, you know this well."
"So, you will yield."
"You will announce an alliance with me in your capacity as Duke of Riverrun."
"You will call upon all your vassals to join our combined forces."
"And then..."
Lysa's smile grew sweeter, but her words grew more venomous.
"You will also have a grand wedding."
She turned slightly, glancing at the leering old Frey behind her.
"Lord Frey has so many lovely and beautiful daughters and granddaughters, one is surely worthy of you, my dear brother."
"You will become the most glorious son-in-law of House Frey, offering up everything you have for the alliance of our two houses."
"I didn't want it to be this way."
"Tully is, after all, also my home. If you cooperate with me, House Tully will not only have knights fighting for me, but it will also be easier to rally other vassals."
"Killing all of you does me no good at all."
"So, brother, you must be obedient, cooperate with me, and make House Tully fight for me."
"By the gods, I promise that after victory, I will forgive you all."
Edmure Tully seemed to hear the sound of his own heart shattering.
Kill the person, and destroy their spirit too?
Lysa's collusion with the Freys to rebel was probably already fully in place and ready.
And House Tully was now completely unprepared!
If he refused to cooperate, then Lysa would smash the pot since it's already broken, and directly slaughter House Tully to the last!
But if he cooperated with Lysa, then the Tullys could still survive.
He knew Lysa had no credibility, but his life was in her hands now, did he have a choice?
He knew, at this point, House Tully was already a name only.
Whether he cooperated or not, House Tully was finished!
In the future, he would be controlled by Lysa and Walder, slandered and smeared at will.
He might even, in the future, bear the infamy of patricide, betraying his family, or letting the wolf into the house.
Becoming the eternal shame of House Tully.
He would watch helplessly as his home was carved up by these two devils, as his people wailed amidst the flames of war, powerless to stop it.
Edmure, though foolish, still cared for his people.
"No... no!!"
Edmure let out a desperate roar.
A flash of resolve shone in his eyes.
There was still a chance now!
If Lysa died, the whole conspiracy would collapse!
Edmure, like a beast driven into a corner, took advantage of Ser Waddis's inattention, suddenly broke free from his restraints, and lunged at Lysa.
He wanted to kill this monster!
Even if he died, he would drag her down to hell with him!
However, before he could get close to Lysa, a sword hilt slammed hard into the back of his head.
THUD!
The world instantly plunged into darkness.
In the last moment before losing consciousness, he heard Walder Frey's gloating, shrill laugh.
"Hehe, it seems our new duke needs to learn some manners..."
"Don't worry, Lysa, I'll make sure he adapts well to his new identity."
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